


Little Moments

by Red_Tigress



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Gen, Hurt Beau, Hurt Caleb, Hurt Fjord, Hurt Jester, Hurt Molly, Hurt Nott, Hurt/Comfort, Mighty Nein, No Spoilers, Rated for cursing and campaign-typical violence, Sorry no Yasha, Written pre episode 10, h/c bingo fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Tigress/pseuds/Red_Tigress
Summary: Fill for a Hurt/Comfort bingo and brief character studies of the Mighty Nein.





	Little Moments

**Author's Note:**

> My first CR Fic! Very brief ficlets of everyone except Yasha (this was written pre-ep 10 and I didn't think I knew enough about her character) as I try and get a feel for the Mighty Nein.

He had barely gotten off his curse when he felt his body seize up.

Mid-stride, his muscles locked and he tumbled face forward into the mud. His sword fell from stiff fingers and fell into the mud at his side with a splat. It took all his effort to pull his neck up to get a view of what he had been looking at before.

He saw the human sorcerer grin wickedly, as she pulled her hand back towards her body, the two soldiers at her side rushing forward. A flash of blue filled his vision, and Beau was in front of him, her back towards him and her arms up in a defensive stance.

His eyes flicked over to where Jester was kneeling on the ground, panting heavily, another soldier rushing towards her.

“B…Beeee…” he tried to moan through gritted teeth and she saw her head turn slightly in his direction but she didn’t take her eyes off the soldiers in front of her. He could see from here Jester was close to going down, and if she did they were screwed. “G…get…Jesssss…”

The first crossbow bolt came flying in her direction and she slapped the projectile out of the way. “I’m not leaving you to get _slaughtered_ ,” she growled, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice. She realized the same thing he did. If they went down, Jester could still help them but if Jester was hurt, they probably wouldn’t be able to help her.

He saw as Beau slapped another projectile out of the way. “FUCK! Hang on, Fjord!” She shouted, before she darted towards Jester. One of the guards peeled off, brandishing his sword to follow her, but the other one kept running towards Fjord. His muscles strained as he pushed them to move, sweat dripping down his neck from his hair line and running under his armor.

The solder was upon him, and he gritted his teeth in preparation for the sword to swing down. He felt the impact, felt the blade slice through his leather armor and into muscle as the blade sliced through him. He couldn’t scream, just grunt as the pain hit.

His Armor of Agathys flashed and he felt a burst of cold hit his skin like a stinging winter wind. Ice exploded outward, and the soldier that attacked him screamed as his sword hand turned red, the skin unable to handle the intense cold. The sword tumbled from his fingers.

His own blood pouring out of his chest wound warmed his skin, and he pushed his muscles again, desperate to get to his feet. His arms began to shake and he pushed himself onto his side, and got one forearm under him. He grunted, his fingers of his other hand fumbling clumsily for the hilt of his own sword.

The blade gleamed, its wet surface reflecting the afternoon sunlight as he pawed at it. He was simultaneously trying to pull one leg underneath him, but he couldn’t get his lower body to move at all. He heard his opponent grunting and the clatter of another sword pulling over rocks and brush as the soldier recovered his grip. Fjord stiffly moved his head, and saw the soldier glaring, holding his wounded hand against his side and reaching for the blade with his other hand. “Filth,” the soldier growled.

Fjord ignored the insult, his eyes moving back towards Jester and Beau. Beau was fighting both soldiers by herself, and he saw Jester stumble in his direction with a look of dismay.

He exhaled sharply, holding his sword out in her direction in what he hoped looked to her like stop. It seemed to have worked, because she paused. “Heal…self…” he panted heavily.

He saw a look of understanding on her face. She probably didn’t have many spells left. She nodded, and he saw her touch her own stomach, her hands glowing with a soft, white light.  She exhaled, making eye contact with him, right when he felt a blade plunge through his shoulder and pin him to the ground.

There was another explosion of cold, but he barely felt it through the shearing pain in his shoulder as he grunted and fell into a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. His vision began to swim and the last thing he saw before his vision turned dark was a look of absolute _rage_ on Jester’s face.

The next thing he knew, there was a light tapping against his face and he came to, gasping. Jester was leaning over him, Beau behind her looking worried.

“You are not going to throw up water again, are you?” He coughed, trying to sit up, but she pushed him back down easily. He noticed her hands were covered in blood, and he caught sighed of the tangle of bandages around his shoulder. He shook his head slightly, leaning back and just breathing.

Beau moved around Jester, looking livid. “You asshole!” She shouted. “You’re not supposed to let yourself get hit on purpose! What the fuck were you thinking?” She looked angry, but Fjord had been traveling with her long enough to hear her voice slightly tremble with worry.

He grinned. “You…handled it,” he rasped.

“Fjord, I do not like healing, it is true, but I can heal you! You should have let me do that, and now I have to drag your butt back to town!”

Beau sighed, sinking to her knees. “Fjord was right, only because you’re too heavy to drag back to town.”

“You’re probably right, but Fjord is still fatter than me,” she said as she pulled him up easily. She smiled. “I am just stronger.”

He grinned. “Works for me,” he said slinging an arm over her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

The battle had been short, but victorious. The bandit group had also been easier to round up to, since the bounty only required their emblem, a pin each of them war on their cloaks. No need to collect ears or scalps or heads or anything still bleeding.

Mollymauk was almost disappointed the battle was already over. He had been looking forward to an open fight, but instead the group had tried to ambush them in the night. Molly had been quick to act, but unfortunately because of the quick action, no one’s lives had been spared. One had even been worrying close to his neck before Caleb’s shout brought them all out of their light slumber. He had snatched up one of his swords between him and the enemy, rolled out of the way as he dragged it across his forearm, and swung once into the belly of the human before him.

Even though it was the middle of the night, they had decided to move an hour or two to the North and they were packing up the camp onto their cart.

Molly was just reaching for his bedroll when he stumbled, falling forward onto one knee from his crouched position. He blinked, warily. Fjord, standing nearby with his own bedroll in his arms, furrowed his brow. “You okay, Molly? Didn’t get hit, didja?”

“No, just must be…more tired than I thought.” Fjord nodded, and walked off to see to cleaning up more of the campsite. Molly got slowly to his feet, feeling slightly dizzy.

Nott slumped past him, yawning and rubbing at one eye. She threw her bedroll up into the wagon, then scrambled up one of the back wheels and tumbled into it. She was hidden from view for a moment, before her eyes and and eartips peeked over the back of the cart. Her eyes darted around, before settling on something shiny by the ashes of their campfire. Her eyes darted back to him.

“Molly,” she said sheepishly. “Could you grab my flask? I already climbed all the way up here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You seemed pretty spry just a moment ago.” She just grinned at him, knowing how much he liked her. He smirked. “Cheeky little goblin,” but he moved back towards the campfire. He kneeled down to get the flask, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him again. He exhaled sharply, but fell to one knee slowly to steady himself.

To hide the movement, he pretended to be interested in the flask itself. But as he tried to unscrew the cap, his fingers felt thick like sausages, and he fumbled clumsily. There was a soft rushing starting to echo in his ears, and he hissed in frustration. His tail, which normally moved steadily back and forth behind him, slapped thickly into the dirt.

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

He tried to swing around, to ask for help, but as he did, he fell to one hand, the flask tumbling out of his grip. He saw Nott lean on the side of the cart in alarm, but Fjord was already rushing forward.

“Molly!” He felt Fjord’s strong hands gripping his shoulders, and it was then he noticed the warm sensation of blood running down his forearm. That…should have healed by now. He glanced down, noting the sluggish flow, and the unnatural dark tint.

“That…fucker…” he hissed. Jester was next to Fjord now, and they were talking to each other and scanning his body for injuries. They must have been watching them. Knew what he did with his swords. He had been poisoning them so when Molly used them on himself this would happen. And he fell right for it.

There was pain now, and his body started to seize. His teeth clamped together, and he moaned, slamming his eyes shut. “Poison…” he grit out, opening his eyes to glance at Fjord. The warlock looked at him, and followed his gaze to his own forearm. Molly knew how much knowledge Fjord absorbed and knew he would notice the difference between Molly’s normal battle scars and the poisoned one. Fjord’s eyebrows shot up in realization, and he turned to snap something in Nott’s direction. Molly’s body relaxed for a moment before he was seizing again. He felt small clawed hands grip his face and pull his clamped teeth apart and then a bottle was being shoved in his throat. The antidote burned on its way down, but slowly, his body began to relax.

He lay panting, on the ground, five very worried faces above him.

“Well,” he rasped. “That was a bitch.”

Relieved faces smiled down on him, and he reached forward and pulled Nott gently against his chest. “Thank you, you saved my life.”

“You all almost die so much, I have to keep everything I find,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the head, laughing. “We don’t deserve you.”

 

* * *

 

Snow. She hated snow. It was almost as bad as water. Just as cold, if not colder. Crunchy. It got stuck between her toes and ran down the black of her cloak. Even if a cave was cold, it was dry. Snow was never dry.

As they got higher into the mountains, the snow got deeper, almost as high as her chest. She struggled and at first refused multiple offers of help. She could do it, she could. Everyone else could do it, so could she. But she was beginning to slow the group down. She trailed behind, Caleb stopping to wait for her as he pulled his own threadbare coat tighter around himself.

“I know you like to keep your own pace, but this snow is a struggle, even for me.”

She looked up, the wind and snow buffeting her face, and saw his own bright red cheeks and nose. He saw her looking and pulled his scarf up around his face. “You may share my scarf if you’d like.”

That did actually sound nice. She nodded, and he leaned down so she could scramble up on his shoulder. He handed the tail end of the scarf up to her, and there was enough give she could wrap it around her face a few times. He patted her shin and made his way slowly after the rest of the group.

“Caleb, I know fire isn’t your favorite…” she trailed off, unsure of how to finish her sentence.

“No, I agree with you.” He lifted a hand, and a small flame grew out of his palm. The wind shifted it dramatically, and he held it close to Nott’s feet dangling down over his shoulder. With his other hand, he held her shins in place and shielded the flame against the wind so his hands and her feet would catch the warmth. The wind blew a lot of it away, but she was thankful for what they had.

She saw Jester bound ahead through the snow, then bounce back. Caleb and Nott, and Beau to a lesser extent, were trailing behind the group pretty distantly. She saw Jester wave, then disappear behind a rock outcropping. “I hope they found a cave,” she said quietly. She shivered, but hopefully Caleb didn’t feel it over his own shivering.

“Don’t worry, we will rest soon.” Caleb seemed so sure, she couldn’t help but relax.

They got to the top of the hill, Beau ducking between the rocks and out of site right before Caleb did.

The cave wasn’t warm, but it was out of the wind. There was even some dry wood, left behind by travelers in this mountain pass long before them. Caleb easily transferred his flame to the wood, and in a few minutes they were all sitting around the flame shucking off their wet boots, and just breathing hard.

The only person who wasn’t outright shivering was Jester, but Fjord was the next to recover. Jester busied herself with digging blankets out of the packs and setting up bedrolls, handing out blankets to everyone else. Nott wrapped herself up and leaned into Caleb, still shivering. Her eyes drifted shut as Fjord and Jester started planning their next moves. Occasionally, a violent shiver wracked her body, but they were starting to slow down.

She felt Caleb move under her and couldn’t stop herself from tipping forward. Large hands caught her and heard a voice but it was like an echo far away. She moaned in protest quietly as she felt the blanket pulled away, followed by the feeling of her clothes and wrapping being removed. She didn’t realize how wet her blanket had been until a new, dryer one replaced it. She felt hands begin to rub up and down on her arms and legs, stirring the blood in them and warming her up. She sighed contentedly, finally able to open her eyes.

Caleb and Jester were looking at her worriedly. “Don’t _scare_ me like that,” Caleb breathed.

“Wha?”

“You should have said something about how you were freezing. You did not respond when we talked to you.” Jester put her hand gently on Nott’s face. It was much warmer than she expected, given the Cleric’s natural inclination for colder climates.

“The next town we come to, we are getting you more clothes.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” she said, and let Caleb pull her closer to him as her eyes drifted shut again, but this time in a natural sleep. “We’ll get some for you too, Caleb. You’re cold too,” she mumbled.

He wrapped his own blanket around them both. “In due time, mine freund. Let’s take care of you first.”

She nodded against his chest, sleep taking her.

 

* * *

 

Beau and Fjord were sitting on the ground, leaning on one another as Jester sat in front of them looking over their wounds. They were all exhausted, a fact further illustrated by the fact that Beau didn’t even whine when Jester took her arms. In hand, flopping them around as she pulled out the bandages.

“Beau, that was so COOL, I mean, I’ve seen you grab arrows out of the air before, but you threw it right in that guy’s eye right when he was about to _stab_ Molly, and that you even saw him from across the way was so cool!”

She glanced over to where Molly was helping Nott go through the bandits’ belongings, Caleb looking on quietly. The other three hadn’t taken many hits, but Beau and Fjord were covered in bruises and cuts. She herself had taken an extremely hard hit to the side, before her spiritual candy had splattered the guy attacking her on the floor. She could still feel the wound in her side, hot and uncomfortable, but nothing worse than what she’d already experienced in the weeks she’d spent with her companions.

She got done wrapping Beau’s arms, and shifted her weight so she could take Fjord’s ankle in her hands. She’d heard it snap during the fight and as soon as he could get off of it, he had fallen to the ground and not gotten up.

“And Fjord, you were incredible with your sword, you sliced up that guy, really well!” She made some slicing motions with her hands and saw him smile at her slightly. She took his ankle and her hands glowed softly as she felt the bones knitting back together. He grunted slightly before he gave a long sigh and leaned back against Beau.

“Thanks, Jester,” he breathed.

“Noooooo problem!” She laughed, sitting down all the way on her haunches. “Beau you should have like, a fight with Fjord and see if you can…” she punched the air and made some _bam_ noises and giggled.

“I’m not gonna do that, Jester,” Beau grumbled, not opening her eyes.

She giggled, clutching her stomach and falling onto her back. “Yeah! It would be so neat and then you’d be all _pow_ and you’d be all _slice_ and then…” and she kicked Beau’s foot.

“Dude, cool it,” Beau muttered.

“Pow, pow, pow,” she giggled again, punctuating each word with a kick to Beau’s foot. The monk had opened her eyes now and was glaring at Jester.

“Jester, stop.” For some reason, the look of annoyance on Beau’s face just made Jester giggle harder. “Jester, seriously, what is your deal?”

There was a twinge of pain her stomach, making her wince. But then she saw the confused look on Fjord and Beau’s face and started giggling again. “Guys,” she panted. “Guys, I think-”

She fell slowly backwards, resting against the ground, giggling weakly, sound fading out. She pulled her hand away from where it was covering her stomach, fingers red with blood. “Hehe, that’s mine,” she whispered. There was shouting around her that was muffled like her head was wrapped in a towel. She vaguely thought of one of the matrons, taking care to wrap the towel around her head and horns gently, before she was escorted back to her room. And then the matron was replaced by Molly’s worried face, red eyes peering into hers.

There was a hard pressure on her side and she cried out in pain, weakly trying to push the bloodhunter’s hands away. “I know it hurts Darling, but we have to do this,” she heard Molly say. “Do you have any spells left?”

She giggled and shook her head weakly. “Fixed the foot,” she sighed. A heavy sigh echoed hers, and she felt something soft placed under her head, and the clothes from her side pulled away. Cool dry wrappings touched her side and she sighed. Nott’s face appeared in her vision.

“Jester, are you feeling better? I like jokes but you weren’t laughing at anything funny.”

She smiled tiredly. “I just need sleep and then I’ll feel good again.” Nott nodded, and curled up against Jester’s good side as Molly covered them with a blanket.

 

* * *

 

The dancing lights flickered ahead of him to where Beau was feeling along the wall of the cave. One stayed overhead so Caleb could see his own feet, and as soon as he did he regretted it. He was standing on a very thin strip of rock, a dark crevasse far below. Nott was a few feet in front of him, offering encouragement. They had become separated from the rest of the party, forcing them to go around the far more treacherous path in the cave. Caleb cursed his luck that he was near-blind, stuck underground again so soon after their experiences in Allfield.

He could see Beau felt the same way, from the way she kept looking warily down the crevasse. Nott seemed to be navigating it with ease, her small form at home in the rocky underground terrain. She scrabbled easily back and forth between the two of them, making sure they were alright and their footing was secure. Caleb could see though all her attention was on them though, and he was wary of what might be else in this cave.

“Nott, can you possibly go ahead with your eyes and keep a lookout for anything that might be in here with us? I do not want any surprises.”

“Well, alright,” she sounded hesitant. She gave him a nervous look, and then scrabbled forward, Beau emitting a yip noise as Nott darted through her legs and ahead.

Caleb hadn’t quite realized how much better he felt with the small goblin at his side, acting as his eyes in the dark, but with her departure it felt like the darkness was closing in on him again. He could hear his breathing echoing off the walls around him, and the slight tremble the sound held.

He also heard the sound of pebbles bouncing off the rock behind him.

He whirled around, eyes scanning the ground and propelled the Dancing Light in front of him. Something shiny and dark was on the ground in front of him, its sleek scales reflecting the light. He was still trying to comprehend what it was, when it lunged.

Fangs sunk into his calf muscle, and he cried out as he felt more than just a bite. The wound burned unnaturally  and without thinking he hurled a fireball at his feet.

The snake let go as it was flung backwards and into the void. But the fireball had upset the already unstable path. Rocks crumbled underneath his feet and he went to spin around, but his wounded leg collapsed underneath him. His eyes met briefly with Beau’s, who looked at him with first shock then panic as she understood what was happening. He had just enough time to return a helpless look of his own before he was falling.

His fingers scrambled at the rock, and he felt warm blood as they were torn into by the sides. His worn boots flimsily scrabbled for purchase, making more rocks fall. He briefly caught something, before he felt it break off in his fingers, the sudden shock of weightlessness taking his breath away.

Something clamped down on his wrist, and he heard a grunt as he looked above him, Beau straining with her feet planted to pull him up.

“For someone so skinny…you sure weigh a lot…” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Caleb!” Nott screamed. She was on her knees between Beau’s feed and her claws pulled at his jacket as she tried to help Beau. Together (but mostly because of Beau), they managed to pull him up onto a slightly wide and blessedly stable part of the path. All three collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily. Finally, Nott crawled onto his chest giving him an angry look. “This is why I didn’t want to leave you alone! You always get into trouble! I left for ten seconds and you fell into a hole!”

“I’ve actually fallen into a hole,” Beau grunted from her position on the ground.

“Yes, it is an experience I would not like to repeat,” Caleb groaned sitting up. His leg gave a twinge of pain and he gasped, hunching over. Nott hurriedly pulled herself off his lap, eyes looking it over.

“Was it a Dire Snake? A Zombie Snake? A Fey Snake?” She pulled his pant leg aside and began taking the bandages off her own arms to wrap it up.

“No, just a regular snake. It should wear off in a few hours,” he breathed. “It will just be uncomfortable for a while.” He watched her silently for a moment, bandaging his leg. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He turned to Beau who was sitting up. “Thank you both. I would not be here…I would not be here.”

Beau nodded, giving him a light punch on the shoulder before she got to her feet and helped him up. “What can I say, can’t see in the dark by myself.”

Nott took his hand in her own and gave it a light squeeze, before she ran ahead again. Beau let him lean on her the rest of the way to safety.

 

* * *

 

Blood streamed into her eyes, turning her vision red. She held her hands in front of her defensively, her staff long gone. Most of her weight was on one foot, the other having been bent awkwardly underneath her when she had been grabbed and thrown onto the ground by the Goliath in front of her. She was all that was between him and her companions. They were all hurt, trying to recover in the cave behind her, and she knew they were in various states of sleep and recovery. No one had come out of their last encounter well.

And now this fucker wanted to rob them, probably tear them limb from limb.

Over her dead body.

He lunged with his axe, and she dodged pushing his hand to one side with her own. He growled and backhanded her savagely, making her tip to one side but she held her ground. She was breathing heavily and her blood felt thick in her throat. She swallowed and licked her lips, feeling them become sticky as the blood from the backhand flowed out.

Beau narrowed her eyes and thrust the heel of her hand forward squarely into the Goliath’s nose. He growled, stumbled backward a step, then rushed forward. He outweighed her by about four hundred pounds, and the wind was knocked out of her as he tackled her to the ground. He reared back his hand for a punch, but she rolled out of the way and swung her leg up and over her head as she did so. Her good foot hit him in the face. He retaliated by thrusting his elbow into her stomach.

There was a moment she almost vomited from the force, but she held it down, breathing harshly through her nose and scrambled a few feet away. He took the moment to get back to his feet and pick up his axe. “Your spoils will be mine, as will your friends’ dead bodies.”

She pushed herself to her feet, her injured one still dangling underneath her. “Think again…fuckface.” She cringed inwardly. She was gonna have to employ some help for thinking of good insults.

But only if the help she could employ stayed protected.

She balanced on her good foot, raising her other leg into the air. She but one arm slowly forward, level with her chest, and extended the other one straight up for balance.

“Come and get it, sweet cheeks.”

The Goliath charged, but she was ready. She threw one leg into the air, starting her upward and forward momentum. Her forward hand grabbed the Goliath’s shoulder, swinging her body over him. As she began to fall, with all her might she screamed as she brought her elbow straight down onto the Goliath’s neck, right where his neck met his shoulders. She heard a crack, and the Goliath crumpled bonelessly onto the ground.

She landed on top of him, breathing hard, and not moving for a moment. From inside the cave, she heard only stillness. Her breath left her lungs shakily, and she wheezed, pulling herself off the body.

After a few more minutes of wheezing, she was able to pull herself to one foot. Using the cave walls, she pulled herself back towards the embers of the small fire they’d started. Everyone was in various states of unawareness, but they were safe. Molly was leaning against the wall, the skin around his eye a dark blue as he snored. Jester was curled up on her side on the floor near to him. She pulled herself over to the Tieflings, squeezing between the two as a hiccup of pain left her.

She sighed deeply, as she watched Caleb’s breathing form back to back with Nott’s. Fjord was a little ways off, his injured leg propped up on some spare cloaks in front of war he was laying on his back.

As Beau wiped blood away from her mouth and eyes, she felt Jester’s hand move up and wrap around her waist gently.

“Beau,” she heard the soft whisper. She looked down, but Jester hadn’t opened her eyes. She was still clearly exhausted.

“I’m okay,” she whispered back. “Everything is okay.”

Instead of replying, Jester shifted slightly so her head was in Beau’s lap. She let out a soft sigh of contentment, before emitting a soft snore. Beau smiled, put her hands in Jester’s hair gently, and leaned her head on Molly’s soldier.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Fjord-"Trying to communicate of command even though they can only speak a few words"  
> 2\. Molly-"Becoming unusually clumsy and fumbling simple tasks"  
> 3\. Nott-"Shivering long after everyone else has stopped"  
> 4\. Jester-"Becoming giggly from bloodloss"  
> 5\. Caleb-"A helpless look right before they collapse"  
> 6\. Beau- "Breathing hard to concentrate through the pain"
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated, and you can find me on Tumblr at redtigress dot tumblr dot com. Thanks for reading.


End file.
